


Shattered

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Episode tag: ‘The Wire’, M/M, more angst i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 23:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13937328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: “Garak, stop this,” says Julian, firmly, “I don’t want to hurt you.” The voice in his head now resounds with a please that repeats over and over again.





	Shattered

Julian imagines time stopping for a moment when the vase crashes onto the floor.

The glass shards spread outwards from the centre like a broken star, each wedge cracked, uneven and ugly. It takes him a moment to get back to his senses but he’s quick to tell Garak to calm down.

 _Calm down, Garak, calm down, oh, Garak._ He finds himself repeating Garak’s name over and over in his head and with every repetition he’s pleading with him to calm down. _Garak’s not in full control of his body and mind and I can’t bear to see him like this._

_It’s too painful. To watch the man you love lose his mind._

He jumps back when Garak overturns a table. Uncontrolled rage and confusion is all that is there is in Garak’s eyes when Julian meets his gaze and he just wants to help Garak stop. That’s if he knew how. Garak is so close now, yet so far. _Please, Garak, we’re both hurting, and I know that there’s very little either of us can do to stop this but please, please –_

Without a solution immediately at hand, his attention is fully on Garak. Garak’s eyes follow him around like a predator’s, stalking its prey. And then he starts to speak again, in that eloquent voice of his. But this time, all the witty nuance and sparkle in his usual tone has disappeared, and is now replaced with a steely tone that bites into Julian’s bones with every syllable that rolls off his tongue. He circles the room, not quite with purpose but not quite aimlessly either, in a manner that Julian can only describe as relentless. The determined persistence to repeat the action again and again so that you don’t lose yourself completely from being still.

 _He’s going on about that dark past of his again,_ observes Julian. _Another ploy to get me to hate him. To ignore him so that he’ll die alone believing that everyone hates him._ He takes in a breath, biting on the inside of his lower lip. _Well, Garak, I’m afraid I can’t give you the response you’re looking for. Not this time._

He continues to entertain Garak’s story, his heart sinking lower and lower with every new twist he brings to his recount. Every painful word that spills past Garak’s lips rips into Julian like barbed wire and leave stinging wounds where they land. But Julian takes it all in, refusing to erupt with an furious outburst, even when Garak lashes out and medical equipment flies off the rack. _Well, if he’s expecting me to believe him even the slightest bit, he’s not going to get any of that from me. I don’t care what he’s done because all that matters is that I want him back._

“That’s right. And left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you.” This sentence in Garak’s speech sticks out like a sore thumb and ignites a tiny spark of hope in Julian. _He enjoys our lunches,_ muses Julian. _How likely would it be that he cherishes us and our time together?_

_If anyone has to reach Garak, it’s me._

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company,” says Julian, wittily, in the way that shows that he’s trying, trying to reach past the layers of emotional instability, to reach the real Garak inside. The real Garak, the one that would give anything for an intriguing conversation characterised by the witty banter that ricochets off them both. A second later and he’s realised that maybe he’s made a mistake.

“I did. And that’s the worst part.” Garak replies, his voice laced with seething rage. He could be talking through his clenched teeth now. “I can’t believe, that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring at your smug, sanctimonious face.”

“I hate this place, and I hate you.”

Julian speaks before he can even manage to feel hurt. “Okay, Garak, that’s your prerogative.” _He’s out of control. He’s going to snap any time soon but giving him another dose of sedative might kill him. Those huge doses haven’t fully left his system yet._ He plans his approach, first with a gentler approach and then he runs through a back-up plan in his head, in case Garak get a bit more violent and he will have to defend himself. And he hopes he doesn’t have to.

 _Please, please, Garak,_ Julian pleads, silently, as he offers to Garak a suggestion to lie down. Garak returns the suggestion with resenting resistance, only scowling at him to stay away.

“Garak,” begs Julian. He’s doing all he can to not shake when he says his name. He’s really doing the best he can and it’s so, so hard for both of them. But he can’t back down now.

Garak doesn’t back down either, for he comes at him in a rage and tackles him. Garak’s hands close around Julian’s throat and start to apply pressure but Julian refuses, refuses to give up because he can’t let Garak lose himself. Struggling against the restraint, Julian shifts under Garak as quick as he can so that he can make his move and –

 _God, Garak, I’m sorry._ Julian’s instincts kick in and he rolls over with all his might and now the tables have turned. Garak continues to struggle against him, his jaw clenched and his features contorted in pain.

“Garak, stop this,” says Julian, firmly, “I don’t want to hurt you.” The voice in his head now resounds with a _please_ that repeats over and over again. Finding stability, he leans onto Garak with just the right amount of force so that Garak doesn’t kick free and continue to hurt himself, and so that Garak doesn’t feel trapped in a vice. He curses himself for having his more-than-human strength, but he can’t tell immediately if he’s hurt Garak. Not at this point, when Garak’s still struggling against the pressure on his shoulders, on his hips, but suddenly his entire body goes rigid and Julian lets go.

“Bashir to Infirmary.” Julian slaps a hand against his comm-badge. “I need an emergency medical team in Garak’s quarters now.” He stresses. He’s only had time to grab a medical tricorder and start to run it over before the medical team arrives. Assessing the situation, Julian decides that it’s better that they teleport immediately to Sickbay.

“You better not die on me now,” Julian whispers as the transporter beam locks on and transports them away. He isn’t sure if Garak can hear him, but if he did, he hopes that he’ll take that to mind.


End file.
